


All I Want Is You

by whatagoodboy



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Transgender, cis-male Blaine, ftm!Kurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-29
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-06 05:48:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/415426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatagoodboy/pseuds/whatagoodboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt gets an interesting package in the mail. Blaine is there to help him after he opens it.*</p><p>*A/N: It’s almost three in the morning. I have to be at work in 5 hours. Wrote this all in one go, so all scary-assed typos and such are my own fault. Not beta’d. As usual.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All I Want Is You

**Author's Note:**

> Warning:Possible Dysphoria Trigger  
> I've included language here for body parts that I feel Kurt would be comfortable using. This may not apply to you, or what you'd feel comfortable with.
> 
> As always, I'm very open to questions related to life as an ftm individual--and you can find me at bespectacledcolfer.tumblr.com

“Blaine, you’re hovering.” Kurt calls in the general direction of the partially closed bathroom door. A beat passes before a slightly sheepish sounding Blaine mumbles, “I’m…not even. No hovering, Kurt. I was looking for an, uh…”

Kurt finishes Blaine’s sentence for him. “Blaine, there is nothing you could possibly need that is located within five feet of the bathroom. If you’re going to skulk right outside the door, will you just come in and close the door behind yourself, already?”

Blaine pokes his head around the edge of the door—his untamed curls visible before the rest of his face appears. “Really? I can come in? I’m sorry about my hovering—I just know how excited you’ve been to…” Before he can finish, Kurt grabs him by the wrists, and drags him into the bathroom.

Turning on his heel, Kurt reaches over Blaine’s head, and pushes the door closed firmly. He puts both hands on Blaine’s shoulders and gently pushes downward with a pressure that hopefully conveys, “Please, sit here.” It does, and Blaine sinks down to the cold, porcelain, edge of the bathtub.

Blaine raises his eyebrows, and blinks at Kurt—his features schooled into a pathetic attempt at “look cool, and vaguely disinterested”. Kurt laughs. “Don’t even try to pretend you don’t know why I’m so excited about what’s in this box, you dork.” Reaching over to the tiled surface of the counter, he picks up a small cardboard box, and shakes it gently. With a nervous giggle, he holds the box to his ear, and shakes it again—listening intently for any sound. All he hears is a dull thud.

Blaine can’t control himself a second longer, “Kurt! C’mon…open it! Open it, open it, open it.” he chants under his breath.

Kurt feels the heat of a really good blush coming on. “This is a big deal. I’ve never had anything like this before. I’m nervous. What if it is just…ridiculous? Or….?” he babbles.

Blaine interrupts, “Kurt? If you don’t like it, or if it just isn’t for you? We can laugh and, I don’t know…I guess you can’t return something like that, can you? We could just put it back in its little box, and trash it.”

Kurt cradles the box to his chest, and sits down next to his boyfriend. Leaning his head down to rest on Blaine’s shoulder, he wonders aloud, “I have always wanted something…there, that I just don’t have. I used to actually stand in the shower and pee, pretending I was holding myself like every other guy. What if this doesn’t help? What if it makes me feel even more wrong, somehow?”

Blaine reaches up to push Kurt’s hair out of his eyes, and places a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You know how I feel about what you’ve got, Kurt. You’re YOU. Standing to pee, sitting to pee…although, I have to confess I’m sort of shocked you peed in the shower.” inching closer so their legs touch, Blaine continues, “So, if this is something that you need to feel more at home in your body—let’s give it a try?"

Kurt arches his eyebrow, “WE’LL give it a try? It’s going into my pants—not yours.”

Grinning, Blaine adds cockily, “Hey, I get to be in your pants sometimes too!”

Rolling his eyes, Kurt can’t really refute Blaine’s declaration. They have gotten comfortable sexually—Kurt can hardly believe how far they’ve come. Touching, holding, making love, and even full-on fucking. If you’d asked sixteen-year-old Kurt if he’d EVER be comfortable being naked in front of another person? He’d have pursed his lips and refused to even answer. A resounding, “NO WAY. EVER!” would have played in his mind then. Kurt, five days before his eighteenth birthday? Has come so far, he just wants to hold his younger self close—and whisper in his ear that, incredibly?, he’ll be okay.

Blaine snaps him out of his quiet musing by nudging him gently, and saying, “So, you opening it today, or what?”

Kurt carefully slides his fingernail along the edge of the packing tape holding the package closed. It gives easily, and Kurt eagerly lifts the flaps apart to expose the small item contained within. Nestled in tissue paper is a little plastic bag. Kurt scoops the bag out and cups it in both of his hands. Peering down, Blaine joins in, taking in the view.

It’s a penis. More accurately? A prosthetic penis, made of some sort of synthetic flesh-like substance. It looks freakishly real, and Kurt says so. “Oh”, he breaths softly, “It looks almost as if it’s been removed from someone.”

Blaine winces. “Yeah. Okay. It sort of does. Take it out?”

Kurt delicately pulls at the seam of the plastic bag, and gently pulls the penis up and holds it by two fingers, letting it dangle in a rather garish way. It feels oddly foreign AND familiar to him at the same time. He’s spent a wonderous amount of time learning the texture, heft, warmth, and intensely personal texture of Blaine’s penis since they’ve begun being intimate. THIS one? Is startlingly realistic, but the it’s the fact that, should he choose, that it could be his—an extension of Kurt’s own body, that makes his mouth dry; his heart thump and beat more quickly in his chest.

Blaine shocks Kurt to his core when he places a warm hand over Kurt’s, and slowly leans over to place a kiss on the tip of the prosthetic. Kurt gasps, a flare of heat blooming—making his fingers shake. “Blaine”, he sighs.

Shaking his head fiercely to clear his suddenly muddled thoughts, he stands up with the penis in his hand. Examining it more closely, he takes in the plastic tube visible in the shaft of it and the spoon-like attachment near the base. Taking a deep breath, and trying to remember the advice he’d gathered from trans*-related websites, Kurt walks over to the toilet bowl and raises the lid. Resolutely, he untucks his t-shirt, and drags his fingers to the button-fly of his jeans.

Quietly, Blaine moves to stand behind him. Placing his hands softly at Kurt’s waist, he whispers in Kurt’s ear, “I’m here. You can do this. Only if you want, Kurt. I’m here either way.” Kurt just nods, unable to speak. Plucking his buttons undone, one by one, he begins to lower his jeans. Blaine helps, tugging them down just below his ass. Kurt holds a hand at the waistband of his boxer briefs, fingers trembling and sweaty. Blaine places a soft kiss on the nape of Kurt’s neck.

“D’you want me to help? I can go wait in the bedroom if…” he asks.  

“No.” Kurt answers, quickly. “Please stay. I need this. I need you to help me with this.”

Eyes closed, he hooks two fingers around the elastic band of his underwear, and pulls them down, leaving them bunched down by his pants. Kurt can feel Blaine’s breath tickling the back of his neck, and the warmth spurs him on. With a quick, backwards tilt of his head, Kurt leans into Blaine’s springy brown curls—and places a kiss as close to his temple as he can manage.

Opening his eyes, Kurt can see his torso in the bathroom mirror. The images stop when it gets to his crotch, making him snort in silent laughter when he notices.

“The mirror doesn’t show me what I’ve got, Blaine. Below the edge of the vanity? Could be the world’s most giant cock as far as the mirror knows”, he remarks boldly. Blaine presses himself closer to Kurt. A small movement, but enough for Kurt to sense Blaine, warm and solid—and more than a tiny bit hard in his jeans it seems.

“Mmmmmmmmm. I love when you’re behind me like that.” Kurt mutters.

“Yeah?” Blaine responds, his tone darker than usual. Just to make sure Kurt’s telling the truth, Blaine dares a small, barely perceptible thrust.

A breeze from an opened window ghosts over Kurt’s skin, reminding him that he’s currently half-naked and exposed. Kurt looks down at his crotch, a thatch of well-trimmed pubic hair with no proudly jutting biologically supplied cock filling his vision. He feels his little cock tingle slightly.

Carefully, he lowers the man-made penis to his pubic bone. The sight of the flaccid cock pressed up against his skin makes him gasp. For the first time in his life? He’s got something he can wrap his hands around there. It makes him want to cry. Adding his other hand, he simply cups the slighly-cool material to himself.

Blaine, peeks around Kurt’s shoulders. “Kurt, can I see?” he asks, shyly.

“Mmmmmhmmmm” Kurt whispers. “Look. It’s so real.”

Blaine sucks in sharp breath. “It…it is.”

He slides a hand over from Kurt’s waist, trails it along Kurt’s forearm, and places it over one of Kurt’s. Silently, they both just hold one another for a moment. Blaine feels Kurt’s trembling settle—his boyfriend’s hands still and soft upon himself.

Underneath the warming texture of his new cock, Kurt feels a slight drag where it presses against his groin. Without thinking, he shifts his hips slightly and emits a low, “Uhhhh” as the tip of his dick slides against the false one.

With a chuckle, Blaine breathes into Kurt’s ear, “I thought you were supposed to pee with this? How does that work? You getting too worked up to pee, hmmmm?”

“Oh, oh, crap. You’re right.” Kurt returns. “Well, stop being all…hard behind me, and maybe I can try it.”

He’s aimed for huffy with this response, but fails miserably when Blaine suddenly sucks at his clavicle—pressure, heat, and damn it, _more_ flooding his body.

“Is it weird that I think this is totally hot?” Blaine asks, his voice turned uncertain.

“What? The fact that we’re touching my new cock, or the fact that I HAVE a new cock?” Kurt inquires wryly.

“Um, all of the above?” Blaine suggests.

Kurt decides that peeing is probably out of the question at this point. He’s throbbing, aching, and he just wants to press his thighs together and…

Spinning around, surprising Blaine—who lets go of Kurt’s dick quickly, Kurt feels bold. “What’s hot about it, Blaine? Why is this hot?” he demands, voice raised just slightly in challenge.

Blaine, ever-polite, “yes, ma’am, no sir—can I get that door for you?” rises to the challenge. “It’s hot, because, ” he says as he sinks down to his knees, placing his hands on Kurt’s thighs, “I see this new thing, and yeah, it’s hot. I like cocks…Kurt. But, underneath it—it’s pressing up against you. Rubbing, close to your body, _your_ cock.”

Licking his lips, he continues, “It’s like a little secret that only I get to know Kurt. How to make you quiver, and babble, and…” gently moving the packer aside, Blaine lowers his head and cranes his neck forward—inches from Kurt’s warmth, “fall apart. I can make you forget all of the parts about your body that bother you. I can make you feel so good. I want you, always.”

Kurt lets the packer fall to the ground, grabbing onto Blaine’s head for support. His legs threaten to give way—his muscles jumping and thwanging.

Blaine’s breath quickens as he scootches closer to Kurt’s opened legs. He can see Kurt’s cock—hard, red, and seeming like it’s reaching out to him. His mouth waters, and with a deep breath, he moves forward to meet it. Sweet, musky, tangy flavours flood his mouth—making his cock pulse with every swipe he makes with his tongue. Feeling the slippery wetness at Kurt’s entrance on his chin—Blaine closes his eyes, letting every sensation wash over him.

God, he loves this—the sounds Kurt makes, the little grunts and groans Kurt tries to choke back. It feels like a gift, a wonderous gift. This boy, _his_ boy.

Kurt begins to thrust his hips, his movements jerky and stuttering. Blaine thinks that there’s a certain grace to the letting go—the trusting that goes on between the two of them. They may not be choreographed, these private dances—but they are glorious in their perfect imperfection. They are real, raw, just the two of them—together.

Blaine inelegantly jams his right hand into his pants. His cock is leaking, his underwear wet and sticky.

Kurt notices, and begins to make a motion to stop him. “Bl…Blaine…I can…” he murmurs.

Shaking his head, Blaine simply says, “I’ve got you Kurt. I’ll get me, too. This is for you. Wanna make you come.”

Kurt nods, and places his hands back on Blaine’s head—resting his fingers atop it carefully.

“Kurt, grab me? Pull my hair…I want to… uuungh, I want to feel it—feel you.” Blaine gasps. Kurt complies—tangling his hands into Blaine’s sweaty curls. Grasping his cock roughly, Blaine begins to jerk it in short, quick, strokes. He doesn’t want slow, careful, or the glide of lube. He wants NOW, intense, just-short-of-too much.

Kurt’s getting close, Blaine’s messy. Saliva drips down his face, Kurt’s scent the only thing in his nostrils. The bathroom fills with the sounds of lust, desire—nonsense words, muttered, “Oh, yeah…there. Jesus, please don’t stop” and “Come On. Come. Come on.”

With his mouth opened in an ‘o’ of shock, Kurt feels his orgasm rise from his toes—his ass clenching, his pussy contracting rhythmically. Blaine latches onto Kurt’s cock—his lips sealed tight around it as Kurt rides the slam of release.

As Blaine swallows the warm, viscous, fluid streaming from Kurt’s body, he feels his orgasm rip through his body as well. Balls tightening, toes curling, he’s got a second of forewarning to unclench his fist from around himself. His dick pulses, once, twice, and he feels like he’s falling as come spurts from the tip—his cock untouched.

Ears ringing, head muzzy—Blaine comes back to himself with a lapful of Kurt. Leaning against the bathtub, they both blink blearily, and look around at the state of the room.

“I couldn’t stand up any longer,” Kurt offers, as explanation for his lanky body currently settled between Blaine’s legs.

Blaine snorts. “Glad I could help with the “not being able to stand” part.”

Kurt laughs quietly. “God, Blaine. This room is a wreck. WE are a wreck.”

Screwing up his features in distaste, Kurt moves his back away from Blaine’s damp jeans. “Did you come in your pants? Am I leaning in sperm right now?”

Blaine nods, too tired to really care. “Yup. In my pants on my shirt, maybe a little got on the floor. I dunno.”

Kurt pauses, then with a deep sigh, settles himself back against Blaine. “A little got on the floor? Huh.” “Blaine?” he asks.

“Mmmmm?” Blaine responds.

“I think I’m growing as a person. There’s sperm on my bathroom floor, and I am not even going to clean it up right away.”

Kurt grabs a towel from the rack nearby and covers the two of them with it. “Ta-da. Blanket!” he crows.

“You are such a dork. MY dork.” Blaine says, sleepily.

Closing his eyes, and curling up into Blaine’s arms, Kurt feels drowsy—a nap sounding kind of weird, given their current location, but nice anyway. “Guess the peeing will have to happen on a later date, eh?” he says, drifting off.


End file.
